


Hidden Yearning

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2301182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is invited to five of his friend's weddings. Draco Malfoy is invited to the same ones. Harry is surprised by this, but not as surprised as he is to discover he is developing feelings towards Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Yearning

**Author's Note:**

> For [Prompt # 208](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NnIZtnyWEqbQHgi3U6N1CwbznCTkDeZGWJqgEw6KRrQ/).
> 
> Thank you to E for the beta, and thank you very much to the mods for their patience with me. It really is appreciated <3

At first, the outside of the invitation looks simple yet elegant. The parchment is white, and the front cover has four intricately designed triangles pointing towards an opening in the centre. 

As the triangles open up to form a pyramid, rose-coloured clouds rise up from the centre until a heart is formed from the mist. 

The triangles fall backwards, landing so the invitation looks like a star. A black mist skims along the parchment and the silver writing underneath it shines through. It truly looks like a night sky. 

Sparks of magic begin to shoot upwards in a mass of swirling colours; red, green, blue, and yellow – all dancing together in a synchronised display. 

As the sparks fall back down to the parchment the mist starts to clear away to leave the writing beneath clearly legible. 

It reads: 

_George and Angelina_  
 _Request the pleasure of your company_  
 _On the 28th June, 2004_  
 _11am sharp at the Ministry of Magic (quoting Weasley-Johnson wedding)_  
 _Celebrations to follow at the Leaky Cauldron afterwards_  
 _Colourful clothing is mandatory_  
 _Please confirm attendance by owl as soon as possible_

***

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, staring wide-eyed as Draco Malfoy sat down next to him. 

He had seen the blond during George and Angelina’s ceremony, and though he had wondered what Malfoy was doing there, he never got chance to ask because at that moment George and Angelina began to dance down the aisle together. 

“This is where I’ve been seated,” Malfoy answered plainly, pointing to the name tag on the table. “Merlin knows why they’ve sat me next to you.” 

“Like sitting next to you is any better?” Harry retorted angrily, but he quickly remembered that he was at a wedding so he took a deep breath to hold himself together; why was it always Malfoy who made him react so strongly? “What I meant was why are you at the wedding?” 

“I was invited; would have thought that was obvious,” Malfoy responded, gesturing with his fingers for a waiter to bring over a flute of champagne. 

“Who by?” Harry questioned dumbly – his confusion was only heightened when Malfoy took two flutes, keeping one for himself and giving the other to Harry. 

“George,” Malfoy answered, shrugging. “We’re financial partners; I thought you knew.” 

“No, I didn’t,” Harry said. He hadn’t known George had any financial partners; he seemed to be doing just fine on his own. 

Malfoy scoffed, but turned away to watch as the bride and groom entered the room. Harry took the moment to study the man beside him. Though Harry had seen Malfoy around, he hadn’t really paid him any attention. His hair was still platinum blond and styled without a single strand out of place, and his chin was still pointy and slightly up-turned as though Malfoy thought himself better than everyone around him – which probably wasn’t far off the truth. But Malfoy had aged well; now he was a few years out of his teens, his pale skin was clear and with a light dusting of pale stubble on his chin. Though he was still thin, Malfoy’s body was firmer and more solid, and loath as he was to admit it, Malfoy looked damn fine in a suit – Harry had never been so happy that it was too warm to keep dress robes on. 

Harry suspected he had a weakness for suits – Ginny had made his knees weak every time she wore one – and something about Malfoy seemed to make the suit even better. Perhaps he had drunk too much champagne already. 

The waiters soon came out with trays of food and Harry was drawn from his musings. It was pub food but taken to an elevated level; Hannah Abbott ran the kitchen and she only hired the best. 

“Why is there an empty chair up there?” Malfoy asked quietly, jerking his head towards the head table where there was an empty seat to the side of George. 

“It’s for Fred,” Harry answered, the words leaving a familiar ache in his heart. Even Malfoy now looked uncomfortable, so Harry attempted to change the subject. “So that invitation of yours was pretty good. Was it hard to make?” 

“It wasn’t hard,” Malfoy scoffed, looking thoroughly unimpressed at the implication that he might find anything difficult. “It _was_ , however, very time consuming. I had to cast each separate charm in a very precise manner, and in a strictly specific order.” 

“Oh.” Harry tilted his head and watched Malfoy carefully. “Everyone seems to have their invitations designed by you at the moment.” 

“People want quality, and I offer that,” Malfoy responded smugly. “You see, everything Weasley and Johnson have here is quality, besides the location. The bridal dress is designer, the table cloths are made from the finest of materials, and the flower bouquets were designed by the very exclusive Romulus Grey.” 

Harry caught Neville’s eye across the table, and they both hastily looked away. Only Harry’s closest friends knew that he worked as a florist. 

His love for flowers had started a couple of months after the Final Battle, when Neville and Luna asked Harry if he would help create a memorial garden, which ended up being very peaceful and therapeutic for him. 

He decided to postpone Auror training for a year while he did up Grimmauld Place, but after becoming bored of doing housework all day, he started up a small floristry business on the side. However he grew to love it so much that he gave up on the Aurors all together and became a full-time florist. 

He chose to work under an alias to give other florists a chance; he didn’t want people buying his flowers simply because of the name ‘Harry Potter’. 

Harry’s flower work was different though, because he generally worked all Muggle. He didn’t use any magical flowers because Herbology had never been his forte, but the Muggle-only technique seemed to be something very different for the magical world and it had proved to be very popular. 

The bouquet he had designed for George and Angelina consisted of pink, purple, and blues roses, which were bound with a rainbow striped lace ribbon. The only magical element to the bouquet were the Muggle sparklers that had been lit and then placed under a Stasis Charm so that the sparking wouldn’t end – or burn the flowers. 

Fortunately, the food was then brought out so Harry was able to change the subject and talk to the others at his table. He had quite a few friends sat near him; Neville and Hannah, Padma and Seamus, and the recently married Katie Bell and Oliver Wood. Unfortunately, they were all in relationships and so their focus tended to be on their partners, meaning Malfoy was Harry’s main company while Ron and Hermione were at the Head Table. 

“How are you finding the food?” Harry asked Malfoy casually, trying to ignore the way his gaze kept drifting to Malfoy’s lips. 

“It’s good – better than expected of this place,” Malfoy replied, bringing another spoonful of dessert to his mouth as if to demonstrate the fact that he liked it. The way he sucked the spoon was almost obscene, and he seemed to be watching Harry as he swirled his tongue around the metal to get the remaining cream. Harry suddenly felt himself get a lot warmer. 

“All right there, Potter?” Malfoy asked, looking knowingly at Harry. “You look very red all of a sudden.” 

“Just a bit warm in here,” Harry answered, tugging at his shirt collar uncomfortably. Seamus winked at him from across the table, and Harry felt his face go even redder. “So Oliver,” he said, turning the conversation to something that would keep Oliver talking for ages. “How’s playing for Puddlemere United going?” 

Oliver spoke about his Quidditch team for a long time, until he reluctantly stopped when it was announced that the evening entertainment would be starting. 

George and Angelina had arranged to have the usual dancing, but alongside Muggle gambling tables, and with a massive buffet of sweets and chocolates. 

All of those activities, however, seemed to have been deemed romantic by the couples, leaving Harry with Malfoy trailing around after him. 

“Do you really not have any friends here?” Harry asked Malfoy as they dipped strawberries on sticks into a chocolate fountain. “I don’t think I’ve figured out yet why I’ve become your best friend for the day.” 

“Figuring things out isn’t exactly your forte, is it?” Malfoy drawled, causing Harry to frown. But Malfoy’s features were soft, and he didn’t particularly look like he had said it to start a fight. “Weasleys and Malfoys don’t really get on, and I don’t know the Johnsons. Plus it looks like you’re the one of the few others here not in a relationship.” 

“Couldn’t you have brought your fiancée as your plus one?” Harry asked. He had heard Malfoy was engaged to Daphne Greengrass’ younger sister. 

“Don’t you keep up with the news, Potter?” Malfoy retorted, raising an eyebrow. Harry shook his head – he made a point of not reading the _Daily Prophet_ , so all his news sources came from Hermione and _The Quibbler_. “We broke up last year. Apparently my homosexuality was a problem for her.” 

Harry almost choked on his strawberry, spluttering as it went down the wrong way. “You’re gay?” he managed to gasp, while his stomach fluttered in unexplained excitement. 

“Oh, you have a problem with that? Do you think the fact that you like men doesn’t matter because you like women as well? I, unlike you, actually keep up on the news you see. The bisexual Potter stories seemed to run for weeks.” 

“No, no; I don’t have a problem with it,” Harry said quickly, holding up his hands defensively. “I was just surprised, that’s all.” In all honestly, Harry had expected Malfoy to marry a blonde Pureblood girl and have blonde Pureblood babies to continue the Malfoy line. 

“If you got to know me properly you’d find out I’m full of surprises,” Malfoy answered, looking at Harry with a look that seemed almost lustful – almost – but Malfoy’s gaze soon moved to the sweet table. “What are those?” He pointed towards a large ring made up of brightly coloured sweets, held together by a thread. 

“Candy necklace,” Harry explained. Feeling the need to clarify, he picked one up and pulled it over his head, before lifting the candy necklace to his mouth and biting one of the small sweets off. “They’re Muggle. You can get the most places, but these ones came from _The Sweet Emporium_ in Pentonville. I go there quite a lot because of Teddy,” Harry wasn’t quite sure why he was telling Malfoy the details of the shop, but then again, he knew exactly why he was telling him. The thing Harry couldn’t explain was why he was hoping – deep down - that Malfoy might turn up one day, because when else was Harry going to see Malfoy again except in passing in Diagon Alley? 

Drinking alcohol at a wedding with lots of couples around definitely didn’t help with loneliness, Harry decided. 

“Hmm,” Malfoy murmured thoughtfully. “I may drop by some time.” Harry’s stomach jolted at that. But then Malfoy lifted the candy necklace that was around Harry’s neck and lowered his head, staring at Harry with an intense gaze as he bit down on one of the sweets. 

Harry felt his face flush as his cock grew hard almost instantly. Malfoy smirked and pulled back, and Harry wanted to punch the smug look right off his face. 

“Anyway, Potter, have you tried the white chocolate truffles?” 

***

Five days after George and Angelina’s wedding, Harry found himself in his favourite sweet shop yet again. It was just round the corner from Grimmauld Place, and Harry had found an excuse to walk by it every day since the wedding. 

He tried to tell himself he wasn’t looking for Malfoy, but he had yet to come up with another reason as to why he was stopping by the shop every day. 

Harry, feeling guilty for hanging around the shop without buying anything, bought a pack of Smarties and headed back to Grimmauld Place with an inward sigh. This thing with Malfoy was purely physical, Harry knew that. Harry seriously doubted that he and Malfoy could become friends, let alone boyfriends, and as Harry wasn’t one for one night stands or casual relationships, there was nothing really that could come of Harry trying to hunt down Malfoy. 

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a voice calling his name. And surely the voice only sounded like Malfoy because he had just been thinking of him and not because Malfoy was actually there. 

Yet that platinum hair was recognisable anywhere, and Harry waited with bated breath as Malfoy strode towards him. 

Malfoy was walking with a Crup attached to a leash, and the animal barked loudly when it neared Harry. 

“Quiet, Sauron,” Malfoy hissed to his pet, received an angry growl in return. 

“Sauron? Like Lord of the Rings Sauron?” Harry exclaimed in shock. Hermione had taken Harry to the Muggle cinema to watch the trilogy, and he had taken a great liking to it. He hadn’t expected Malfoy to be a fan of Tolkien, though. 

“Yes,” Malfoy nodded. “I have a cat at home named Smaug after the dragon in the Hobbit.” 

“But it’s so…Muggle.” Harry regarded Malfoy carefully, sure that the blond must be playing a trick on him. “They are your pets, aren’t they?” 

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter, yes!” Malfoy scowled at him and took a deep breath which appeared to calm him down, for his face took on a much calmer expression. If anything, a mischievous glint gleamed in his grey eyes, and he looked Harry up and down almost appreciatively. “I did tell you, Potter, I am full of surprises.” 

Harry was beginning to realise that. 

“Anyway, I’ll see you around,” Malfoy continued, shaking the leash so that Sauron the Crup became aware of the imminent departure. “And for the record, Tolkien is a Squib.” 

***

The invitation starts off as a small brown circle. 

As soon as it is placed down, a green stem breaks through the brown and slowly pushes itself upwards. Parchment leaves break off from the stem, which continues to grow until it is a foot tall. 

When the stem stops, more colours break through. First a vivid orange ball spreads high and wide, before it starts to emit a red and yellow glow. The shades of the colours begin to deepen, looking thicker and thicker as the glow starts to take shape. 

Magical petals fold around the orange centre, closing it in completely before bursting open with a flash of light. 

Finally, tiny green vines creep from between the petals and onto the centre to form words. 

They read: 

_Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott_  
 _Would be delighted if you could join them in their marriage ceremony_  
 _Taking place at three in the afternoon, on the ninth of July, 2004_  
 _Taking place in Dalby Forest_  
 _Please RVSP via owl_

***

“Tolkien is not a Squib,” Harry hissed at Malfoy, who he found seated at the back row of chairs at Hannah and Neville’s wedding. “And since when have you been friends with Hannah and Neville?” 

“We go wine tasting together,” Malfoy answered dismissively. “And have you really waited a week to disagree with me?” 

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Harry said hotly. “You’re just wrong. I asked Hermione and she said Tolkien is a Muggle, and then I asked Luna because she knows about conspiracy theories and things like that, and she said Tolkien had magical eyes but his heart and soul were all Muggle.” 

“I’m not wrong,” Malfoy stated firmly, waving his hand in the air to attract a waiter towards them. He took two glasses of red wine and pushed one into Harry’s hands. “This is Chianti wine, directly imported from Tuscany. It has a slight taste of cherries to it.” 

Malfoy took a sip, licking his lips afterwards. Harry found the movement mesmerising. 

Harry followed suit, mainly to distract himself from Malfoy’s mouth, and found that the wine actually did taste of cherries. Harry idly wondered what the wine would taste like on Malfoy’s lips, before he shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of those thoughts. 

“You know your wine pretty well then,” he said with an awkward laugh. Malfoy rolled his eyes. 

“That’s what happens when you go wine tasting.” Malfoy turned his head and fixed Harry with a curious look. “You should come sometime; spend some time with Longbottom before he gets his soon-to-be wife knocked up and they abandon you.” 

“They won’t abandon me when they have kids,” Harry said, trying to sound sure of his words. The truth was, though, that it was something that had been playing on Harry’s mind. All of his friends seemed to be getting married and settling down – all at the same time, incidentally – and he was still single and living alone in a big house. It hadn’t been so bad when he and Ginny had both been the single ones in their group of friends, but recently she had written from Italy where she was playing in the European Quidditch Cup to say she had met a ‘lovely guy’. 

It wasn’t like he was hung up on Ginny – their break up had been mutual and they had remained good friends – but what it did mean was that he was the last of his friends left single. 

“Trust me on this,” Malfoy said, as though he was reading Harry’s thoughts. “Pansy and Theo got married a couple of years ago, and all their attention is on little Ophelia now.” 

Malfoy sounded bitter, and Harry realised he may have something in common with him. 

“Hello, Harry,” came Luna’s voice as she sat down beside him. “Hello, Draco.” 

Luna took Harry’s attention then until the bridal music started to play, and he never got chance to verbally sympathise with Malfoy. 

Hannah looked beautiful walking down the aisle. Her dress was all frills and lace that Harry didn’t really care for – he just wasn’t a dress man – but her face was aglow with happiness and it looked stunning on her. She wore a crown of flowers around her head – designed by Harry – rather than holding a bouquet. It was made up of wild daisies and purple asters, and they blended in perfectly with the forest around them. 

The ceremony was short but sweet, and Neville and Hannah exchanged vows that they had written themselves. 

After the service finished, the crowd was directed to a small clearing amongst the trees where round wooden tables and chairs were set out and decorated with green ribbons and more wild daisies. There were name tags on the tables, but nothing else telling people where they were going to be sat – Hannah had thought it would be funny, apparently. 

Malfoy strode past Harry, seemingly knowing exactly where he was heading. In fact, Malfoy had to have known, or else he was a very lucky guesser as he took a seat at the first table he approached. Harry was going to take a chance at another table to find his name tag, because surely he wasn’t going to be sat next to Malfoy _again_ , but then he saw Ron and Lavender sit opposite Malfoy and his stomach twisted in an annoyed sort of excitement. 

Merlin, what was wrong with him? He was like a smitten schoolboy or something. 

It turned out that not only was Harry sat at the same table as Malfoy, but sat next to him as well. Harry could feel Malfoy’s eyes on him as he sat down, and his face flushed in response. 

Malfoy, however, didn’t say anything when Harry sat down, and instead kept mostly to himself, making small talk with Luna who was seated the other side of him. 

Yet somehow, Malfoy still had Harry’s full attention. It was strangely irritating that Malfoy seemed so friendly with Dean and Luna, when at the previous wedding he had followed Harry around like a lost puppy rather than ignoring him. 

Harry supposed that – deep down – he had been hoping that Malfoy had been flirting with him. Not that Harry expected or wanted anything to happen between them, but having a bit of harmless flirting made Harry feel a bit more like his coupled-up friends. Of course, Harry seemed to have misread the signs; Malfoy had probably just been using him for someone to talk to. 

That was what Harry had decided upon until he felt Malfoy’s leg brush against his own. Harry stilled, but Malfoy was continuing his conversation with Luna like nothing had happened. But just as Harry was beginning to think the movement had been an accident, Malfoy’s leg moved and created a wonderful friction between their thighs. 

How Malfoy was keeping a straight face and talking through it, Harry didn’t know. 

“Harry!” a voice shouted, and he twisted his head so sharply that a twinge of pain shot through his neck. 

Ron was looking at him with a bewildered but amused expression. 

“Has the wine got to you, mate?” Ron asked with a grin. “I asked if Hannah and Neville got the food from that farmer’s market you recommended.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Harry laughed, running a hand through his hair absent-mindedly. “Yeah, I even got them in touch with the farmer who sells the lamb so they could get a discount.” 

“I love Muggle farmer’s markets,” Luna added, and now Malfoy had finished talking to her, his eyes were back on Harry. “You’re so lucky to live close by to one, Harry.” 

“Why does distance matter?” Lavender asked curiously. Still not used to Luna, she treated almost everything Luna said as strange and peculiar, even if it was actually quite normal. “Can’t you just Apparate?” 

“Apparating is useful,” Luna agreed, “but sometimes it’s just nice to go for a walk instead. How long does it take you to walk to Islington, Harry?” 

It took Harry a moment to answer, distracted as he was by the friction between him and Malfoy. “About fifteen minutes or so,” he finally answered, his voice coming out strangled. A tiny bit of human contact and Harry was already going crazy; he really needed to get his life and relationships sorted. 

“Wonderful,” Luna beamed. “Now who would like to go and dance with me?” 

Harry knew nobody at their table would agree to dance with Luna due to her eccentric dancing style, so after checking that Dean wasn’t going to play the dutiful fiancé by dancing with Luna regardless, Harry quickly volunteered. 

Now, Harry was by no means a good dancer – unless he copied Luna because then he looked intentionally bad – but Harry felt Malfoy’s eyes on him for the rest of the evening, and it made Harry feel pretty darn good about himself. 

He truly was a sucker for a handsome face. 

***

“Harry! I want some gelato,” Teddy Lupin begged, tugging on Harry’s arm. “Please, Harry, pretty please.” 

He had taken Teddy out to the local farmer’s market. All the talk about it at Neville’s wedding had prompted Harry to go again, and Teddy loved seeing the sights of the Muggle world. 

Harry smiled at the six-year old affectionately. “In a little bit, Teddy. How about we go to Fortescue’s after we’re done here?” 

Teddy hummed thoughtfully. “Can I have gelato here _and_ a sundae at Fortescue’s?” 

“Sorry, Teddy; your grandma would kill me,” Harry said with a chuckle. “How about we go look at what flavours they have here and then you can decide which you’d prefer.” 

Teddy nodded enthusiastically, and started to pull Harry through the crowd. 

He pulled to a sudden halt, though, and started pointing at a blond man looking at a stall. Harry’s stomach flipped – surely it wasn’t…?

“Uncle Draco!” Teddy shouted loudly, attracting not just the blond’s attention but a number of people passing by as well. “Uncle Draco! Over here!” 

The man – who was indeed Draco Malfoy – turned around and fixed Teddy with a smile. Grey eyes then flickered up to Harry, and his lips twisted into a smirk. 

“If I didn’t know any better, Potter,” Malfoy stated as he neared the pair, “I’d say you were stalking me. Again. Hello, Edward.” 

“Don’t call me Edward,” Teddy whined, rubbing the side of his face against his shoulder. “I’m Teddy – like a bear.” Teddy roared as if to make his point, making both Harry and Malfoy laugh at the child’s antics. 

“So what are you doing here?” Harry asked conversationally as the group made their way to the gelato stall. Despite Malfoy’s claim that Harry was stalking him, Harry was certain it was the other way round. He hadn’t spoken to Malfoy for years and now they were running into each other everywhere. 

“I came to buy some of that lamb we had at Longbottom’s wedding,” Malfoy answered, shaking the plastic bag he was carrying. “I bought myself a bottle of Malbec yesterday and it goes very nicely with roast lamb.” 

“Eating lamb is cruel,” Teddy piped up. “They’re baby sheep.” 

“Bears eat lots of baby animals, Edward,” Malfoy retorted gently. Teddy grinned and growled again, and his hair started to turn from black to blond. 

“Teddy,” Harry warned gently – a sudden change in hair colour wasn’t a good idea in front of Muggles. 

Teddy grinned at Harry cheekily, before letting go of Harry’s hand to go and grab Malfoy’s. Teddy pulled Malfoy towards the gelato stall, pointing at the different flavours. 

“If Uncle Draco buys me gelato, then you can buy me a sundae at Fortescue’s,” Teddy said to Harry, as though he was very proud of his plan to get both the treats he wanted. Teddy was truly a little Slytherin at heart; he clearly spent too much time around the Black family. 

“Well I have a better idea,” Malfoy said, crouching down so he was at Teddy’s level. “How about you let Harry buy you an ice cream today, and then you and your grandmother can come round to Aunt Narcissa’s tomorrow night and we’ll bake a treacle tart.” 

Teddy’s face lit up in excitement, and he nodded rapidly. 

Malfoy smiled at the child, and his smile continued even as he rose to full height to look at Harry. Malfoy truly was good with Teddy; Harry knew that Teddy and Andromeda visited the Malfoy household quite often now – being rid of Bellatrix allowed the other sisters to become closer – but what Harry hadn’t known was that Malfoy could actually be nice to a child. Part of him had expected Malfoy to steal Teddy’s sweets and have childish arguments with him. 

But as Malfoy had said, he was full of surprises, and maybe Harry’s beliefs about Malfoy were stopping him from seeing the truth. Harry was a different person from who he was as a teenager, and it only made sense that Malfoy would grow up, too. 

“I would invite you,” Malfoy said, taking a step closer to Harry so there were only mere inches between them. Harry gulped but stood his ground, looking into Malfoy’s eyes. “But I’d rather you and my father didn’t kill one another.” 

“Understandable.” Harry nodded; he didn’t mind Narcissa so much but Lucius wasn’t Harry’s favourite person in the world. 

“Maybe another time,” Malfoy mused, darting a tongue out to swipe his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Edward.” 

Then he strode away, and Harry was left feeling gobsmacked until Teddy said very loudly, “why are you so red, Harry?” 

***

The invitation is traditional, on ivory parchment with curly black writing. 

But as the invitation is touched, ivory dust starts to rise from the invitation to form two arches that meet in the outline of a heart. 

Gold lace starts to appear on the parchment in a swirling pattern at the top of the page. The letters turn from black to gold, shining brightly up at the reader. 

It reads: 

_Mr and Mrs Weasley_  
 _Are pleased to invite you to the marriage of their son_  
 _Ronald Weasley_  
 _To_  
 _Lavender Brown_  
 _On 21st July, 2004_  
 _Ceremony commences at four in the afternoon_  
 _At the Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole_  
 _Please send an owl with confirmation of attendance_

***

“You’re an usher?” Harry repeated faintly, staring at Malfoy in shock. “You are an usher at Ron Weasley’s wedding?” 

“That’s what I just said,” Malfoy said, scowling in annoyance. “I don’t know why Ron wouldn’t have said anything to you, but he and I have become acquainted at a chess club.” 

If Malfoy had said that just a couple of months ago, Harry wouldn’t have believed him, but now it seemed like all of Harry’s friends had become well acquainted with Draco Malfoy. While that was another sign that Malfoy had changed from his schoolyard bully self, Harry could have never imagined Ron being so forgiving towards him. 

He relayed that thought to Malfoy. “But why an usher? Couldn’t he have just invited you?” 

“If you must know, Potter, I beat Weas-Ron in a bet. He didn’t think I could beat him at chess but I did.” Malfoy looked slightly pissed off, folding his arms across his chest. 

Harry just continued to stare. “You beat Ron? Nobody beats Ron.” 

“Just because you are entirely useless when it comes to chess doesn’t mean it’s impossible to beat Ron.” And that was the Malfoy that Harry knew. “Anyway are you coming? Ron will need us soon.” 

That shattered the illusion; since when would the old Malfoy willingly help anyone? 

“You’ve grown up a lot, you know,” Harry commented as they walked through the Burrow and up to Ron’s room. “If you had come here a few years ago you’d have insulted every inch of this house; now you just seem to have insults for me.” 

“I suppose you’re special, Potter,” Malfoy said with a smirk, and Harry stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Er, yeah,” he muttered awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “You may not be able to help yourself when you see Ron’s room though; it’s orange top to bottom. He’s a pretty big Chudley Cannons fan so…”

Malfoy scoffed. “The least Weasley could do- I mean Ron could do – is support a team that actually has a chance of winning. I can’t imagine Quidditch would be very exciting if you know you’re going to lose. Now, the Montrose Magpies are a good team, and the reason they win so much is because they play well.” 

“I know, right?” Harry agreed cheerfully. He had first supported the Magpies out of spite for an ex who played on a rival team and frequently lost to them, but he had soon learned that the Magpies flew exceedingly well and had the best and most impressive techniques that Harry had seen. Who would have known that he and Malfoy supported the same Quidditch team? 

Malfoy looked amused but said nothing, although it looked like he was having difficulty staying quiet when they reached Ron’s room. Harry had warned him about the orange. 

Ron was in the middle of it all, frantically throwing clothes and comics around the room. 

“I’ve lost the ring, Harry! Merlin, what am I going to do?” Ron exclaimed in horror. Harry narrowly missed being hit by a shoe. 

“I’ve got it here, Ron,” Harry said gently, reaching into his robe pockets to pull out the box. Ron looked like he could kiss Harry. 

“And that is why you are my best man,” Ron breathed, pulling Harry into a tight hug. “Sorry, mate, this morning has been more intense than I would have realised. Malfoy, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m an usher, remember?” Malfoy said almost mockingly, and Ron frowned. 

“Right. Well go and help Mum with the food or something,” Ron urged, shooing Malfoy away with his hands. 

“Did you really make a bet with Malfoy being an usher as the stakes?” Harry asked once Malfoy’s footsteps had echoed down the stairs. 

“What? Yeah, yeah,” Ron answered distractedly. “Stupid, huh? Is this stupid? The wedding, I mean? What if Lavender decides she doesn’t like me? What if I trip over and knock the officiate out?” 

“Lavender hangs off you every chance she gets; I’m sure she likes you,” Harry told Ron, smiling encouragingly. “You’re just nervous – you’ll be a married man this time tomorrow.” 

“And a dad this time next year,” Ron muttered quietly, and Harry felt his smile falter. “Lavender says she wants a baby after we’re married; what if I can’t hack being a dad?” 

“You’ll be a great dad,” Harry said reassuringly. “And you have your whole family there to support you, plus me and Hermione.” 

“You and Hermione _are_ my family,” Ron stated, giving Harry a nervous smile. “Suppose we better get down to the garden.” 

The garden was beautifully set up, with white furnishings and pink lace ribbons lined with gold. There were jars with fairies inside, and their brightly coloured wings created beautiful lights. It was very traditional – at least for a magical wedding – and Lavender walked up the aisle to a simple piece of music played on a violin. 

Lavender looked stunning in a flowing white dress. She held a bouquet of pink and white roses with a few lavenders in between the rose petals, and metal butterflies hovered just about the flowers – Harry was particularly proud of those. Parvati followed behind Lavender in a pink sari decorated with golden patterns, and she was already dabbing at her watery eyes. 

The ceremony was slightly long but sweet, and Harry couldn’t remember ever seeing Ron so happy. He did fumble nervously when Harry gave him the ring, but otherwise the ceremony passed without incident – Ron never did fall over and punch the officiate on his way down. 

Later, Harry didn’t even find himself surprised when Malfoy sat down next to him at the head table. 

“Now that was a wedding that I’m used to,” Malfoy said as he took his seat. Harry could have sworn Malfoy moved his chair a bit closer to him. “A massive amount of distant relatives and long speeches.” 

“It was different, I suppose,” Harry mused. “I hadn’t been to a wedding until this year, but most of my friends seem to be…”

“Eccentric,” Malfoy supplied. 

“Rather than traditional,” Harry finished, agreeing with Malfoy’s choice of word. 

“You do have weird friends,” Malfoy said, casting his gaze across the crowd where Luna was making conversation with one of the fairies and Ginny was pulling faces behind her Aunt Muriel. “You fit in very nicely with them.” 

“I like my friends,” Harry protested, but Malfoy was smiling and Harry realised he was joking – or perhaps half joking; Harry and his friends really could be a bit weird at times but that was what made them such good friends. 

“Liking your friends is part of the deal, Potter,” Malfoy teased. 

Apart from that, however, Malfoy behaved himself during the dinner, and made conversation about business with George who was sat on his other side. 

When the music started and people spilled onto the dance floor, Malfoy stayed seated beside Harry. 

The music was slow and romantic, and most of the dancers were couples – Harry’s friends included. A few single people had joined up to dance together, but Harry wasn’t a big enough fan of dancing to invite someone to dance with him. 

“Harry! Harry!” Teddy sang, running up towards the head table from the crowd. He stumbled on the way but quickly picked himself up again and carried on running despite his grandmother’s shout. 

“Hello, Teddy,” Harry smiled. Teddy’s hair was bright pink for the wedding, and his eyes, Harry noticed with a twinge of pain, were a golden amber colour, just like Remus’ had been. 

“Harry, aren’t you going to dance?” Teddy asked, while Malfoy stood up beside Harry. “You should come dance.” 

“You know I’m not a very good dancer, Teddy,” Harry stated, although Teddy’s puppy-dog eyes had him standing up regardless; at the very least Harry could walk to the dance floor to say hello before hiding in a corner somewhere. 

“You just need a good partner,” Teddy suggested with a grin. Sometimes Teddy really was wise beyond his years. 

“Like you?” Harry asked with a laugh; dancing with Teddy wouldn’t be bad because no matter how awkward Harry looked, Teddy would look cute and distract from that. 

“No, like Draco!” Teddy exclaimed. 

Harry’s knees nearly buckled, but he was saved by Malfoy’s hand around his wrist that was pulling him to the dance floor. 

“Seriously, Malfoy, I’m a horrid dancer,” Harry protested desperately. 

“But I’m not,” Malfoy said firmly. “Paired dancing is easy if you have a good lead.” 

Harry didn’t agree, but he didn’t think he could manage a single word of protest after he felt Malfoy’s hand on his waist. 

Malfoy’s hand was warm and felt wonderful on him, and he couldn’t stop his mind wondering how Malfoy’s hands would feel elsewhere. 

“Put your hand on my shoulder,” Malfoy said, taking hold of Harry’s other hand and raising their arms in front of them. 

Merlin, he was practically holding hands with Malfoy and it made Harry feel a sense of thrill, but also made him feel like a giddy schoolgirl. 

“Follow my lead,” Malfoy continued, twisting them into a slightly different position that must have been a better one. “One, two, three.” 

Then they were moving, and Harry’s feet seemed to move themselves in sync with Malfoy’s. And thank goodness they did, because Harry was too mesmerised by what was happening to think about anything else. He was dancing – dancing with Malfoy – and they were holding hands and touching each other, and if Harry had always danced like this then he would have enjoyed it a lot more. 

Malfoy was definitely leading the dance, and Harry was aimlessly following him, but for once Harry didn’t feel like he was making a fool of himself. Nobody was staring or laughing at them – in fact the only people who seemed to have noticed them were Luna and Teddy who were both sporting matching smiles. 

Harry couldn’t stay focused on them for too long though, because Malfoy span them around which brought Harry’s attention back to the dance. 

“See, Potter; you’re not half bad,” Malfoy said once the music finished. Harry was actually disappointed to stop. “I think, though, that that old lady would like a dance with you, so I’ll pass you over to her now.” 

Malfoy’s smirk didn’t look comforting, and Harry’s happiness quickly ebbed away as Aunt Muriel gave him a wave. 

“Please, Malfoy, don’t-” Harry protested, but Malfoy shouted over him. 

“He’s all yours, dear.” Malfoy gave Harry a wink as he strode away, leaving Harry angrily muttering under his breath until Muriel reached him. 

“Couldn’t you have brushed your hair for the wedding?” Muriel moaned as she grabbed his hands. “Still, at least yours isn’t bright pink; what was Andromeda thinking letting her grandson look like that?” 

For the rest of the next three dances, Harry really hated Draco Malfoy. 

***

_‘Potter,_

I am taking Edward to the next Montrose Magpies match, and was wondering if you would like to join us. 

Edward tells me that you are always guaranteed the best seats, and I think it is only fair that you share that privilege with me after my help at Ronald’s wedding. 

D’

Harry had had to read the letter several times before he could comprehend it. He could hardly believe that Malfoy had invited him out somewhere, and he could also hardly believe that he had instantly sent back a reply saying ‘ _see you there_ ’. 

Harry really was confused about Malfoy. He had felt the physical attraction almost as soon as had seen Malfoy at George’s wedding, but he was slowly starting to fall for Malfoy as a person as well. He had outgrown his cruelness, but was still able to wind Harry up in a light-hearted way, and he was good with kids and animals. All his friends seemed to have accepted Malfoy now, so Harry didn’t see the harm in pursuing Malfoy – apart from the risk of being rejected. 

While Malfoy did seem flirty, and though there was definitely chemistry between them, Harry wasn’t sure if he was just imagining things or reading the signs wrong. The worst part was, Harry had nobody to talk to about it. His friends were either enjoying their lives as part of a newly-married couple, or preparing for their own wedding. 

He had asked Ginny if she wanted to meet for coffee, but she was heading back to Italy before Hermione’s wedding so that she could spend time with her new boyfriend. 

This meant that Harry was left to work things out on his own - and he wasn’t very good at that. 

He was glad that Teddy would be at the match with them, because at least it would save Harry from looking like a socially awkward fool. 

The match was on a sunny day, and Malfoy looked very impressed with the private box Harry and his guests had been ushered into. While Harry didn’t enjoy receiving special treatment, he couldn’t help but be grateful for such great Quidditch seats. 

Teddy’s hair was striped black and white, matching the Magpies colour scheme – Harry couldn’t help but notice that it also matched his and Malfoy’s hair. Teddy sat on Harry’s shoulders to get the best view he could, waving around a flag with a magpie painted on it by Dean. 

“Come on, Magpies!” Teddy shouted, waving his arms around which knocked Harry slightly off balance. Malfoy’s hand grabbed Harry’s arm to steady him, and Harry could feel the touch long after Malfoy let go. 

“Careful up there, Edward,” Malfoy told the child. “Your godfather has a habit of falling from high places.” 

“I do not!” Harry protested indignantly. “It’s maybe happened once or twice, but that’s it.” 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and Teddy giggled. 

They watched the match like that, standing side by side and making light conversation. It felt almost like they were a little family, and all of Harry’s previous worries about Malfoy seemed to go straight out of his head. He was relaxed around Malfoy, and he realised that when he didn’t overthink his mind knew what to do. 

All Harry had to do now was figure out how to ask Malfoy out without making a fool out of himself. 

***

The invitation comes in the form of a book. 

The book has a broomstick on the front cover and the player zooms across it, leaving a trail of hearts behind his broom. 

When the front page is opened, the faded brown invitation takes up the first two pages. 

The first page has an envelope attached to it, and inside is an RSVP form. The form is mostly bare, with a checklist for either attending or not attending, but there is a massive flower down the side. The flower’s colour matches the deep red colour of the writing, and the petals move gently as though there is a gentle breeze drifting through the book. 

The second page with the main invitation has a broom flying around like on the front cover, but this broom has two people on – mimics of the soon to be wed couple. Every so often the bride-to-be will send colourful sparks shooting out of her wand, which settle at the bottom of the page like a rainbow sea. 

The rest of the book contains information about Australia and Muggle traditions, and the couple on the broom fly along each time the page is turned. 

The information written on the invitation reads: 

_Mr and Mrs Granger request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter_  
 _Hermione Granger_  
 _To_  
 _Viktor Krum_  
 _On 2nd August, 2004, commencing at 3pm_  
 _At Villa Botanica, Whitsundays_  
 _The ceremony is Muggle, and Muggle attire is required_  
 _Please RSVP as soon as possible_

***

“I demand a key! Not this ridiculous card!” Harry heard a very familiar voice shout in the hotel lobby. 

“That is your key, sir,” the woman behind the reception desk said calmly, and Harry admired her patience – it wasn’t easy dealing with an angry Draco Malfoy. “You slide it into the lock on the door and it will unlock itself – it’s far safer in case of key loss.” 

“This is a trick! This card is not a key!” Malfoy growled. “I demand to see the manager.” 

“But sir-” the receptionist protested, and Harry took that as his cue to intervene; he wasn’t even surprised that Malfoy happened to be in the same hotel in Australia as him. 

“Sorry, excuse me!” Harry said, running towards Malfoy. He must have looked a sight, awkwardly dragging his suitcase behind him, but his focus was on stopping Malfoy screaming at the receptionist. “My friend’s from a country where they still use ordinary keys – I’ll show him what to do. I’ll just check in first, and then I’ll show you, Draco.” 

The name ‘Draco’ felt odd on Harry’s tongue, but in a pleasant way. 

Harry had never used a key card before, but he wasn’t a stranger to the Muggle world so he knew that Muggles had different inventions that probably seemed alien to people who only knew the magical world. 

“You put it in like this,” Harry explained to Malfoy once they reached the door to his room, demonstrating with the key card. He turned the handle which opened the door. “Think you can handle that?” 

“You’d be surprised at what I can handle,” Malfoy retorted, waggling his eyebrows. 

“I doubt it; I can handle a lot more than you, I’m sure,” Harry shot back, blushing as he realised he was purposely flirting with Malfoy. “Er, where’s your room?” 

Malfoy rapped his knuckles on the door of the room next to Harry’s – Harry really wasn’t surprised anymore. 

“Oh,” Harry said. “How did you and Hermione become friends then? She never mentioned you to me – you are here for her wedding, aren’t you? Because if you’re not then I’m pretty sure you actually are stalking me.” 

“Obvious stalking may be your style, Potter, but it isn’t mine. I’m more of the type to sneak into your bedroom and watch you sleep.” Malfoy winked, and Harry nearly choked on his tongue. “I’m mostly here for Viktor. He and I kept in contact after he visited our school and we’re good friends, even though we aren’t open about it. Also, I go to the same book club as Granger and she invited me.” 

“Oh,” Harry said again. Harry wasn’t entirely sure that Malfoy was telling the truth about Viktor, because the burly Quidditch player had said ‘who?’ when Hermione mentioned Malfoy in a conversation a few weeks prior. It made sense, though, that Malfoy could have met Hermione at a book club, especially because Harry shut off every time Hermione mentioned the club so he might have just missed any mention of Malfoy. 

“Anyway, Potter, I’m going to catch up on some sleep; this time difference is going to mess up my body, I’m sure,” Malfoy drawled, easily using his key card to open his door. “I would invite you, but I genuinely am planning on sleeping – maybe another time?” 

Harry didn’t know how, but he managed to weakly retort “I’ll hold you to that, Malfoy,” without reacting otherwise. 

Malfoy smiled widely, and his tongue swept the bottom of his lip briefly. 

“I look forward to it,” Malfoy said, and Harry’s knees suddenly felt like jelly. 

Malfoy entered his room and shut the door, and Harry followed suit into his own. 

He dropped his suitcase on the floor and headed straight for his bed. Sleep sounded like a very good idea, but having a wank first was a better one. 

***

Australia was hot - beautiful – but hot. It was winter in Australia, but it was just as warm as the British summer that he had left behind for the week. 

After the end of the war, Hermione had gone to Australia to restore her parent’s memories, and found that they were very happy in their new lives and didn’t want to move back to Britain. As a result Hermione split her time between the two countries, adding Bulgaria to the mix after she began dating Viktor. 

She chose to hold her wedding in Australia because she had a lot of Muggle family and friends there, and it was easier for her magical friends from elsewhere to get an international Portkey rather than the Muggles having to fly. 

The location was beautiful, though, with lush greenery looking out onto a sparkling blue sea. It was too hot to be wearing a suit though, and Harry decided that if Hermione wouldn’t allow any magic – thus taking away his ability to cast a Cooling Charm – then she would have to accept him taking off his jacket. He rolled up his shirt sleeves as well, just to give his skin a bit more air. 

“If you want to strip for me I’d rather you do it in the bedroom,” Malfoy said, walking up to stand beside Harry. 

“You’re being particularly bold at the moment,” Harry responded, and it was very true; if Malfoy had flirted obviously like this from the beginning it would have saved Harry a lot of confusion. 

“We only have one wedding left to go to after this,” Malfoy answered with a shrug. “It makes sense that I make my move before it’s too late.” 

Harry opened his mouth to question what Malfoy meant – what _move_? But then the announcer called out for everyone to take their seats so Harry missed his chance. 

Harry took a seat beside Ron, and Malfoy sat his other side so close that their legs and arms were touching. 

Hermione walked down the aisle in a slimline dress accentuated with silver jewels, and her curls were piled up on the back of her head with diamante clips holding the style together. Her bouquet was made up of roses – the national flower of both Britain and Bulgaria – and golden wattles – the national flower of Australia. Harry had bound the stems with white ribbon and silver lace, creating a simple yet elegant bouquet. 

“I designed all the bouquets,” Harry whispered to Malfoy who looked surprised but impressed by the news. “You’re not the only one full of surprises.” 

Malfoy smirked, and his hand crept across to rest on Harry’s lower back. He sat with his face forward, watching the ceremony intently, but his fingers moved in small circles on Harry’s body, and Harry was slowly being driven insane by the movement. 

After the ceremony ended, Harry made sure Ron was looking away before he stood, resting his hand on Malfoy’s knee for a moment as he left his chair. Malfoy’s cheeks were tinged pink slightly, but otherwise he held his reaction far better than Harry did. 

The rest of the wedding was made up of light touches between the two, and each little touch made Harry’s skin tingle. 

Even after Hermione dragged Harry – and Ron – onto the dance floor, Malfoy simply followed and stole Harry for a dance, holding his hips to guide his movements. 

Harry’s mind shut off blissfully and he allowed his body to take control, which somehow led to them pressed against each other in a dark corner, holding tightly onto one another. Malfoy’s face pressed against Harry’s neck and teased his skin with light touches from his lips. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow for work,” Malfoy murmured against Harry’s neck, and the feel of Malfoy’s lips moving against his skin sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. “Owl me when you get back – I owe you dinner.” 

“Seems fair,” Harry managed to utter. 

Hermione’s wedding had definitely been Harry’s favourite – by far. 

***

The invitation floats through the window in the shape of bird. 

The parchment is folded like origami, but the wings flap as if it is alive. The parchment is brightly coloured – a bright blue body with silver wings – and it sprinkles silver dust with each flap of the wings. 

The bird finally land and opens up, revealing a bright blue invitation with bold silver lines painted across at sharp angles. 

The dust rises from the floor and forms the shape of two small silver birds, which lean in for a kiss before exploding in a mass of glitter. 

The glitter falls onto the curly writing, making the letters sparkle. 

The invitation reads: 

_You are cordially invited to the wedding of_  
 _Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas_  
 _On 10th August, 2004_  
 _At Ivory Butterfly Gardens, Windermere_  
 _Please confirm attendance via owl_

***

Due to time constraints, Malfoy and Harry had agreed to have their first dinner date at Luna’s wedding, with a second date the night after. 

Harry had been in Australia for the week, while Malfoy had had an influx of invitation requests. Summer time weddings were most popular, but winter time was almost as busy and couples wanted to get their invitations out by September. 

Harry had expected it to be weird. Their strange little flirting game had been one thing, but Harry though to actually be on a date with Malfoy would be too much pressure and cause them both to crash. 

In actual fact, having a planned date worked out even better because Harry didn’t have to read between the lines. He _knew_ that Malfoy liked him, and that he was allowed to openly show his attraction. If anything, the pressure was less and Harry was glad for it. 

“I still can’t believe you’re a florist,” Malfoy exclaimed as he watched Luna walk down the aisle in a short silver dress that was ruffled with a vast amount of blue netting. Her bouquet was made up of a variety of different flowers – roses, lilies, lavenders, tulips, daisies, and bluebells - to name a few. Luna also had a wire mesh bird that had been charmed to fly around the flowers, designed at her request. 

“I prefer flower designer,” Harry corrected. “Florist sounds a bit too girly.” 

“Either way you’re a priss,” Malfoy shot back. Harry grinned; it was nice to know Malfoy would always insult him, even if they were on a date. 

“Says the man who designs wedding invitations.” 

After the ceremony they were served a vegan dinner – which horrified both Malfoy and Ron – and then the night’s entertainment started. Of course, being Luna and Dean, the entertainment was very unique for a wedding. 

“I am not sticking my hand in that,” Malfoy said firmly, glaring at the paint covered tray. 

“It’s for their wedding gift,” Harry stated, referring to the large card that guests were encouraged to press a paint coloured hand to; Harry’s palm was already coloured blue. 

“I’ll get dirty,” Malfoy protested, and Harry knew how to fix that problem. 

“There,” he said, wiping his hand on Malfoy’s jacket. “Now you’re already dirty.” 

“Prat,” Malfoy growled, but he stuck his hand in the orange tray and slammed it – somewhat angrily – onto the card, before wiping the remainder of it over Harry’s cheek. 

“Now who’s the prat?” Harry laughed, wiping the paint away with the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Didn’t think that out, did you?” Malfoy said, pointing to the paint on Harry’s sleeve. “Here.” Harry felt a warm tingle as Malfoy cast a Cleansing Charm over them both. “Oh, I missed a spot,” he frowned, leaning in towards Harry’s face and rubbing his cheek with his thumb. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.” 

And then his lips were on Harry’s, soft and warm, and made Harry feel like he was floating in a dream. 

The kiss ended far too quickly, so he held tightly onto Malfoy’s shirt and rested their foreheads together. 

“It’s not polite to draw the attention away from the bride,” Malfoy said. “It looks like Zabini forgot that.” 

“Zabini?” Harry glanced sideways, and saw Zabini snogging a woman against a wall. The woman had bright red hair and looked suspiciously like Ginny. Harry’s suspicions were confirmed when an angry Ron stormed up to the couple and pulled Zabini away. 

“What about Ginny’s Italian boyfriend?” Harry asked, twisting his head to face Ginny. Malfoy’s fingers gripped Harry’s chin and turned him back. 

“Zabini _is_ her Italian boyfriend. He’s been working in his vineyard in Tuscany over the summer,” Malfoy explained dismissively. “But as I was saying, it isn’t polite to dry hump at a wedding, however I have no qualms over doing anything elsewhere.” 

“Do you want to come to mine tonight?” Harry heard himself saying. He almost couldn’t believe he was asking on the first date, but the history between him and Malfoy surely counted for a lot more. 

“I do,” Malfoy answered with a nod. “But first I want to pin the tail on the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.” 

***

The invitation is smart and sleek, and arrives in a black envelope. 

The envelope opens itself, revealing a shocking pink underneath as the invitation is automatically slid from its holder. 

The envelope crumples up before taking the shape of a heart and landing in the centre of the pink parchment. The black contrasts strongly with the bright colour, and black stems start to form words in block writing. 

The letters above the heart read: 

_You are cordially invited to the marriage of_  
Blaise Zabini  
And  
Ginny Weasley 

And below the heart: 

_The ceremony starts at 11am_  
 _On 28 December , 2005_  
 _At Eros Ceremony Hall in Hogsmede_  
 _Followed by celebrations at Zabini Manor_  
 _Please RVSP via owl_

***

The fireworks exploded with bright flashes of light, sending sparks of bright colours flying across the dark sky. 

Hearts and star shapes were formed in the sparks, and one firework created a silver bird that flew amongst the stars. 

Ginny and Blaise had had a wonderful wedding, and the entertainment had been great fun. Harry had danced with Draco for a long time, played drinking games with his friends, and now was enjoying the firework display with Draco by his side. 

Harry had been shocked at first to find out that Ginny’s mysterious boyfriend from Italy was Blaise Zabini, but he supposed it must have been just as shocking for her to find out that Harry was dating Draco. The four of them got on well though, and had become what Hermione referred to as ‘couple friends’. 

He turned to Draco and smiled affectionately at him, prompting Draco to lean in to place a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“It’s been a lovely night, hasn’t it?” Draco murmured, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulder and pulling him closer. “Blaise certainly went all out when it came to planning.” 

“I think the synchronised flyers were Ginny’s idea,” Harry said with a laugh. 

“I’d forgotten how much I enjoy weddings.” Draco pressed his face against Harry’s hair and breathed in deeply. “We’re not invited to any more at the moment.” 

“I think all of our friends are married now,” Harry responded, shrugging. 

“I suppose we’ll have to have a wedding ourselves,” Draco said slowly, sounding unsure in himself. 

Harry felt a surge of excitement course through his stomach. “Sounds good to me.” How he was keeping his voice calm, Harry didn’t know. “Next year?” 

“If we get on planning now we can get married in a few months – I’d rather not wait much longer.” 

And with that confirmation, Harry kissed Draco fiercely, pushing them both to the ground. Draco’s arms wound around Harry, pulling him closer. 

“And for the record, Draco,” Harry said teasingly, his lips ghosting over Draco’s, “that was the worst proposal ever. You’re lucky I love you.” 

“In that case, I’ve done my job,” Draco replied smugly, pointing to the sky behind Harry’s head. 

Harry twisted to look up as the sound of a firework went whirling through the air. The sparks exploded with a loud bang, and settled in the air for a moment spelling out the words ‘ _marry me?_ ’. 

“Is that better?” Draco asked with a laugh. Harry kissed him soundly in response. 

“Much better.” 

***

**April 2004**

“So did your guests like the invitations?” Draco asked, drumming his fingers on his desk. 

George and Angelina sat the other side of him, hand in hand. Draco had called them in, requesting feedback on his invitations so he could improve on his future work. 

“Very lovely; thank you again, Draco,” Angelina answered with a smile. 

“Mum was shocked at how untraditional they were,” George added. “Work well done, I think.” 

“Good.” Draco nodded and leant forwards, clasping his hands in front of him. “Now, I do have one more thing I need to speak to you about.” 

“We’re not paying you anymore,” Angelina said sharply, her eyes narrowing. 

“Actually,” Draco answered smoothly, holding back his smirk as Angelina grinned sheepishly. “I would like to make an investment in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.” 

Angelina mouthed ‘oh’, while George very quickly asked “why?” 

“Simple,” Draco continued with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Your company is getting increasingly more popular every day, and I believe it would be a very wise investment to make.” 

“And I suppose you’ll be wanting something in return?” George queried, raising an eyebrow as he looked critically at Draco. 

“Of course,” Draco replied with a nod. “I am a very wealthy man, so ten per cent of your monthly profits in return for monthly payments of 2000 Galleons should suffice.” George’s eyes bulged, and Angelina beamed. “Also, I would like an invite to your wedding.” 

“Why?” the couple asked at the same time, and they exchanged a look and a grin at their simultaneous response. 

“I like weddings,” Draco said with a shrug. “Now, you are probably aware that I do not like many of your guests, but I guess sitting me next to Potter will do.” 

***

**April 2004**

“You were pleased with the invitations, then?” Draco asked, looking across his desk towards Hannah; Draco had never quite got the knack of talking politely to Longbottom. 

“Yes, very,” Hannah smiled, and out of the corner of his eye Draco saw Longbottom nod in agreement. “Just what we had hoped for.” 

“Good.” Draco nodded, before reaching into the drawer on his right to pull out a pamphlet. “Now, I gathered from the information you gave me for the invitations that you wanted a natural and organic feel for your wedding?” The couple nodded. “Well a friend of mine owns a vineyard on his estate in Italy, and no magic or Muggle chemicals are used. I just thought you might like to have his details if you’re looking for a wine supplier.” 

Draco knew for definite that they were – he had overheard Hannah asking her work colleagues in the Leaky Cauldron for recommendations of wine suppliers. 

Longbottom reached for the pamphlet, and Hannah leant across him so they could both read it. 

“Zabini?” Longbottom read. “It sounds perfect in the wine aspect, but he might be a bit too pricey for us, sorry.” 

“Well that’s just the thing – I can get you a discount. Blaise and I often suggest the other to wedding customers, and offer savings accordingly.” 

Draco watched quietly as Hannah and Longbottom exchanged a look, obviously trying to hold a silent conversation until finally Longbottom said they would send Blaise an owl. 

“I won’t ask for much in return,” Draco added, which brought the couple’s attention back to him. 

“Much?” they asked together. 

“Just an invite to your wedding,” he stated, his tone neutral. Longbottom’s lips tightened, but Hannah nodded brightly. 

“You didn’t need to give us anything – you could have just asked,” she said, beaming. “That’s alright with you, isn’t it, Nev?” 

Longbottom didn’t answer straight away, and he seemed to study Draco for a very long time. “I guess so,” he answered finally. “Malfoy always thought I wouldn’t amount to anything, and now he’ll get to see me getting married to the most beautiful girl in the world.” 

Longbottom sure had gotten a boost in self confidence after decapitating the Dark Lord’s snake. 

“Lovely,” Draco said with a strained smile. “Now, I don’t know many of your guests, so just seat me next to Potter.” 

***

**May 2004**

“Checkmate,” Draco stated with a smug smirk. 

Ron Weasley sat the other side of the chess board with his eyes wide and an expression of horror across his face. His fiancée Lavender was standing behind Weasley with her hands on his shoulders, and even she looked surprised, glaring at Draco as though he had cheated. 

Although Draco wasn’t opposed to cheating, Weasley had ensured that the chess set was charmed with anti-cheating spells. 

“I win,” Draco said with a satisfied smile; he knew that Weasley already knew that, but he wanted to rub in his victory as much as he could. “So I get what we agreed on.” 

“Fine,” Weasley muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I lost.” 

“Well you did,” Draco mocked, which earned him an angry glare from his chess partner. 

“I know that,” Weasley hissed, ignoring the soothing comments from Lavender behind him. “I don’t understand why you want to be my usher anyway.” 

“Because I know it will kill you to see me in such an important role at your wedding,” Draco explained truthfully, although he didn’t mention that it wasn’t the only reason. “It doesn’t mean I like you or your family though, so seat me next to Potter; he’s no Weasley, at least.” 

***

**May 2004**

“This can’t be real,” Granger muttered to herself, despite the fact her charms had proven that it was. 

Draco had gifted Granger an authentic original copy of _Magical Creatures_ – a book first published in 1601 which terrified its readers into creating the first laws against magical creatures. Granger’s job involved getting equal rights for magical creatures, and Draco knew that the book would get Granger in the palm of his hand. 

“It is real,” Draco assured her. “A friend of mine found it on their travels, and I have no use for it.” 

Granger’s eyes narrowed. “So why give it to me?” she questioned suspiciously. “I would have thought you could sell this for a lot of money.” 

“I can,” Draco agreed. “However I am very wealthy and do not need money. Having said that, I would like something in return.” Granger didn’t look surprised, and she gestured for Draco to continue. “I would like an invitation to your wedding.” 

That time, Granger did look surprised. 

“Why?” she asked, studying Draco carefully; he took extra care to keep his expression neutral. 

“You’re marrying Viktor Krum,” Draco answered, and Granger suddenly looked a lot more understanding. “To be seen at his wedding would do wonders for my reputation. Besides; I’ve always wanted to see Australia.” 

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Granger muttered with a sigh after a moment’s pause. “But if you do anything to try and ruin my wedding, I will make you pay.” 

“I can imagine.” Draco had heard rumours about Granger getting payback on people, and it wasn’t pretty – the Ravenclaw girl with ‘sneak’ written across her face being one example. “You’re probably aware I don’t get on with many of your guests, so just seat me next to Potter; I think I can manage to stay civil with him.” 

***

**June, 2004**

“Hello, Draco,” Luna sang, waving at Draco as she strode towards him. 

He was waiting on his own while Potter was busy being photographed with the other close friends and family of George and Angelina. 

“Luna,” he greeted curtly. He had always had a soft spot for Luna. True, he had made fun of her in school, but he had snuck down to see her when she was imprisoned in the Malfoy dungeons during the war and discovered that while Luna was very eccentric, she was also the loveliest person he had ever met. 

“Are you enjoying the wedding?” Luna asked, while she tried to pat down the many layers of ruffled netting on her skirt. 

“It’s not bad,” Draco answered with a shrug. The wedding was different to say the least; Draco was used to traditional Pureblood ceremonies. 

“I’m having a lovely time,” Luna stated with a smile. “You and Harry look like you’re having a nice time together; you make a sweet couple. Have you tried the white chocolate truffles? They’re delicious.” 

“What?” Draco said dumbly. “Harry and I aren’t a couple.” He ignored the way his stomach sank when he said that. 

“I know,” Luna replied with a nod. “But you should be. Would you like to come to my wedding?” 

“Your wedding?” Draco repeated weakly – had it been obvious he was pining for Potter? But what was he worrying for? Luna was oddly perceptive, while Potter was incredibly oblivious to most things – apart from dangerous situations – so there would be no way Potter would be on to him as well. 

“Yes; I’d like to have you there.” Luna smiled at him and gently took hold of his hand. “You and Harry ought to have more time with one another; I’ll seat you together.” 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are extremely welcome either here or [on Livejournal](http://hd-fan-fair.livejournal.com/84656.html).


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